Somebody to Love: Sigh With Contentment, Scream With Frustration. At Time You Will Weep. (37 page)

‘Take a seat,’ the nurse said, indicating an empty corridor. ‘It should only take about fifteen minutes or so, then you can find your way back to reception.’ She smiled brightly and was gone.

The nurse was right. It did all look a bit daunting. Donna worried and waited. She was also right about the doctor, to Donna’s relief. Dr Smith was lovely, thank God, explaining the procedure, outlining everything before she actually did it. And the consultant had been right, too. The procedure was painless, even though Donna was sure she must be rigid with fear.

Twenty minutes later, Donna was trying to find her way back to reception down a myriad of corridors, first one way, then the wrong way, then back on track past the ultrasound department. Then stopping, and walking casually back again.

It
was
her. Donna peered around the open double-doors into the waiting area. Leticia! Looking pale, scared and very much on her own.

So where was he with aspirations to gentleman? Not here, obviously, holding her hand, surprise, surprise. So what did she do? Donna hovered in the corridor. Should she go in and speak to her? Go on and ignore her?

‘Leticia Buckland?’ A radiographer called her name, and Donna knew her decision was made. She could hardly duck out of sight when Leticia had looked up and looked straight at her. Wonderful. Just what she needed, a chance of meeting with the imminent mother of Jeremy’s child? She swallowed hard, and actually felt almost sorry for the woman.

‘Donna?’ Leticia stared at her, then looked around, no doubt wondering who it was Donna was with.

‘Hi, Leticia.’ Donna plastered a smile in place and walked over to her. If Leticia was having Jeremy’s baby, especially now she’d realised that the man was a self-preserving rat after their conversation at the pub, then she might well need that shoulder.

Donna could do that. She might need a little scaffolding this time, to keep her shoulders broad and up there, but she could be a friend to a woman who would most definitely need one.

‘So, how are you?’ Donna asked in the absence of anything else suitable to say.

‘Good, thank you for asking.’ Leticia smiled, though not very convincingly. ‘You?’

Donna forced a smile back. ‘Oh, fine,’ she said, airily. ‘You know.’

‘Good. I’m glad.’ Leticia smiled timidly again, wringing her hands together in that nervous way she did. ‘Are you here for, er?’ Her eyes flitted to Donna’s midriff.

Donna knitted her brow, then, ‘Good Lord, no.’ Her eyes shot wide. ‘I haven’t even got… Ahem.’ A man, she was going to say. ‘… an appointment,’ she said instead. ‘Just visiting someone.’

‘Ah.’ Leticia nodded, then fiddled idly with her necklace.

‘I, um, assume…’ Donna glanced at the telltale little bulge lower down.

‘Yes.’ Leticia looked immensely relieved, as if she hadn’t quite known how to tell her. ‘I have my three-monthly scan. Just routine, I hope.’

‘I’m sure it’ll be fine.’ Donna smiled, a genuine smile this time, because that’s what the woman needed. Not bitchiness or snide comment. She needed support, especially with someone being obvious by his absence. ‘Is, um…’ Donna hesitated, wondering how to ask after the proud father.

‘Jeremy here?’ Leticia finished. ‘No. And nor will he be.’

‘Leticia Buckland?’ the radiographer called again, as Leticia hesitated, her eyes conveying a thousand emotions.

‘I should go,’ she said. ‘I, er…’

‘Do you want me to wait?’ Donna asked, empathising with every one of those emotions.

Leticia beamed, actual smile lines and all. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Thanks so much Donna, but Daddy’s collecting me.’

‘Right, well, you’d better go on in then.’ Donna nodded towards the radiographer, who was looking as if she was about to move on to the next mum-to-be. ‘But call me, Leticia, anytime, if you fancy a chat, or a girl’s night, or maybe someone to go dog-walking with. You have my number.’

Leticia nodded, her eyes filling up. ‘I’d like that,’ she said, reaching out to give Donna’s hand a squeeze before turning to go in.

Donna’s little heart fair burst with pride. She’d done it, extended an olive branch to the woman Jeremy had left her for. The soon-to-be mother of his child. She might be superstitious, neurotic, and judgemental, but right then, Donna was mightily pleased with herself.

She notched up her chin, turned around, and walked — straight into Mark.

‘Donna O’Connor…’ he cocked his head to one side, looking absolutely perplexed, ‘you never cease to amaze me.’

****

‘You doing okay?’ Mark asked as they sat waiting for her results.

Donna nodded. ‘Uh, huh,’ she said, her huge green eyes like saucers, which told Mark she was anything but.

‘Good.’ He took a breath, then tentatively took her hand.

Donna didn’t say anything. Just looked straight ahead, then, hesitantly, wove her fingers through his.

‘How did you know?’ she asked, after a moment.

Mark took another breath. ‘Alicia,’ he lied, suspecting that coughing up to reading her personal mail and that
he
informed Alicia might not go a great way towards earning her trust.

Donna glanced at him curiously.

‘She thought I might be able to get here a bit quicker with the assistance of blue-lights and sirens.’

Donna’s mouth curved into a smile.

‘Lorry shed its load, apparently. She had no hope of getting here herself. They’re taking people off the motorway now; lanes closed both ways, but she said she thought you might need, er…’

‘A hand to hold?’

‘Something like that.’ Mark smiled.

‘I do,’ Donna admitted.

Mark nodded. ‘Hold away.’

Two minutes later, Donna was quiet, but holding on tight.

She’d stop his circulation if she held any tighter.

That was okay. He’d give his hand and the arm attached to it to be able to tell her how he felt and hear the same words back. Now wasn’t the right time though. Mark sighed quietly inside, wondering whether there would ever be a right time. Whether what he so badly wanted to say would be what Donna wanted to hear.

If it wasn’t, he’d just have to deal with it. Whatever, it would be insensitive to bring it up while she needed to focus on dealing with this.

The results would be good though. Mark was sure of it.

They had to be. He tried hard not to think about his mother’s rapid deterioration, whose misplaced pride and fear of the unknown prevented her from seeking the help that could have saved her.

Could he risk telling Donna he’d be there whatever the outcome, if she wanted him to be, without seeming pushy?

He would. As soon as the consultant said what he’d got to say and they were alone, he’d tell her, that much at least.

Mark gave Donna’s hand a reciprocal squeeze as the consultant walked towards them.
Christ,
just one more miracle please, he prayed hard.

‘Donna,’ the consultant smiled, ‘and?’ He looked at Mark.

‘Mark. Mark Evans,’ Mark supplied, extending his hand. ‘Donna’s… boyfriend.’

‘Well, Donna,’ Mr Williams said, shaking Mark’s hand, ‘good news. The cytology report is back and normal.’

Donna closed her eyes. ‘Thank you.’

‘Thank God.’ Mark dragged his hand through his hair. ‘How reliable is it?’ he asked, wrapping an arm instinctively around Donna.

‘Ninety-nine point eight percent according to a recent study. Removal would guarantee a clear diagnosis, of course.’

‘How would, um?’ Donna trailed off.

Mark tightened his arm around her.

‘Just a small operation. A lumpectomy, to take away your little alien, that’s all.’ Mr Williams smiled reassuringly. ‘It would be carried out under general anaesthetic, as a day-case, so you’d be back cuddling up on the sofa by teatime. I’ll leave you to have a think about it.’

‘So, what
do
you think?’ Mark asked, steering Donna back towards a chair.

Donna nestled closer. ‘That I quite like having the strong arm of the law draped about me in a crisis.’

‘It might need surgery to remove it.’ Mark slowed their walk to a halt and turned to face her. ‘Donna, there’s something I need to say…’ he started, realising now more than ever, that time was too damn precious to waste ‘… about us and where we go from here. But…’

‘Cooee, Donna!’

Great. Perfect-bloody-timing. Mark groaned quietly inside as Simon and Alicia skidded towards them.

Chapter Twenty-Five

‘Uh, oh, policeman alert,’ Matt called, from where he was attempting to select cross-generational music to please all of the people at his party. ‘Hide the Ecstasy, Mother.’

Donna turned — trying not to look too ecstatic — from where she was helping Simon supervise Nathan grilling his sausages.

‘Oh, blimey.’ Simon removed his arm from Donna’s shoulders
tout de suite
. ‘We’re just good friends,’ he assured Mark, who walked towards them, one arm around Karl’s shoulders, who was walking side-by-side with Starbuck, but un-tethered.

Which was most definitely progress. ‘You bought the sunshine.’ Donna smiled, glad Mark had come, even if friends were all they were destined to be. She could do friends, so long as he didn’t stand too close to her with his intoxicating persona… um, aroma.

Mark smiled his twinkly-eyed smile back. ‘But of course. Madame’s wish is my command.’ He gave her a short bow, and prompted Karl, who handed her the box of chocolates he’d been carrying.

‘Ooh, Belgian chocolates! Thank you, Karl. They’re my absolute favourites.’ Donna beamed, delighted with the chocolates and the little boy carrying them, who’d been concentrating hard on his task, if the little “v” in his brow was anything to judge by. ‘But how did you know?’

‘Never met a woman yet who didn’t,’ Karl replied smartly.

‘Oh.’ Donna glanced from Karl to Mark, uncertain.

‘Er, shop assistant. She offered me a bit of advice,’ he said sheepishly, as he handed Donna a bottle of wine. ‘If there’s anything else Madame requires?’

‘Flowers,’ Matt whispered, whipping past to relieve Donna of the wine.

‘I’m working on it,’ Mark replied likewise, then smiled disarmingly at Donna.

‘What are you two up to?’ she asked suspiciously.

‘Nothing,’ Mark shrugged, the epitome of innocence. ‘Just man-talk.’

Hmm? Donna wasn’t convinced. Man-talk and the
flower
word just didn’t go together somehow. Matt had obviously suggested he bring some, and Mark had obviously thought better of it, thinking Donna might read too much into the gesture.

But he’d brought chocolates. Donna’s mind drifted back to their conversation, when they’d both been wet through to the skin and shivering in the hall. When he’d held her so close and kissed her so sweetly, he’d set her senses on fire and touched the very core of her. He’d brought a little bit of sunshine into her life then, too. Even through the incessant rain.

‘Donna,’ Mark cut through her thoughts, stepping towards her to pinch a sausage from the cooked pile parked next to the barbie, ‘I can see you’re tied up right now, but do you think we could slip off and have a quiet word sometime?’

‘About?’ Donna asked, her little butterfly’s wings flapping manically. Was he about to deliver his
I care very much about you, but
… speech?

‘Us,’ Mark said quietly. ‘I realise it’s not a great time, but I was hoping we could…’ He trailed off, glancing skew-whiff at Donna, who was now trying very hard to keep her face straight.

‘What?’ he asked, obviously bemused as Nathan laughed too.

‘I’m glad someone’s enjoying my cooking,’ Nathan chortled, spearing a burger.

‘You’re dangling your sausage, darling,’ Simon enlightened him, spearing one of his own.

‘Damn.’ Mark tried to snatch the sausage back, but Starbuck was quicker.

‘Whoops.’ Donna all but doubled up as Starbuck took a fancy to his finger. ‘Well, he has been on a light diet,’ she pointed out. ‘He’s probably starving.’

‘I’ll save him the other nine for afters.’ Mark sighed good-naturedly. ‘Can we talk, Donna? Please? Somewhere quieter?’

‘Well, yes, but I am terribly busy, just now,’ Donna said, demonstratively shuffling plates. In truth, she hadn’t liked the
I realise it’s not a great time
bit. ‘Can’t we just talk while I work?’ She picked up a batch of burgers to deliver to the garden table.

‘We could,’ Mark said, sidestepping Sadie, who’d hopped out to greet the great benefactor of sausages interestedly, ‘but…’

‘Mark, how lovely.’ Evelyn appeared from the patio doors bearing picky bits. ‘We’re so glad you could come, aren’t we, Donna? Could you go now, please, and take your father with you? He’s in there,’ she rolled her eyes towards the lounge behind her, ‘trying to light the living-flame gas-fire with a match, dim-witted man.’

With which Robert appeared at the doors. ‘I might have lost a few marbles, but I heard that, woman,’ he boomed, closely followed by, ‘Ouch! Bloody hell,’ and tossed his lighted match out.

‘
Shi-it
,’ Mark muttered. ‘Could you, er?’ He glanced from Donna to Karl, then went to check on his dad.

No, Mark. I thought I’d give him a beer and let him wander around on his own
. ‘Hi, Karl.’ Donna bent down to his level. ‘How’s Starbuck?’

‘Starbuck’s doing pretty good,’ Karl said importantly, obviously repeating something Mark had said, but his diction was becoming more his own, and his vocabulary seemed to be growing daily, which was progress with a capital P.

‘Ooh, I do like your shoes.’ Donna glanced down to see Karl was wearing a shiny new pair.

‘We went shopping.’ Karl said, taking a bite out of his burger. ‘Starbuck chose Karl’s shoes,’ he went on, looking pleased with himself. That little speech wasn’t verbatim, she was willing to bet.

‘How’s the burger, Karl?’ Simon asked, looking super-pleased with himself as second master-chef in command.

‘Shi-it,’ Karl repeated what Mark had said matter-of-factly.

Simon arched an eyebrow. ‘We’ll work on the recipe,’ he said, with a resolute nod. ‘Nathan, more sauce, less burning please…’

‘Come on, Karl,’ Donna laughed and took Karl’s hand, ‘let’s go and find Starbuck a nice bed we can bring out and put next to Sadie’s, shall we?’